


A Raw Deal

by knotlkr



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Bad Ending, Barbed Penis, Bestiality, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Castration, Cock & Ball Torture, Dark, Demons, Devils, Dildos, Feminization, Forced Feminization, Genital Torture, Humiliation, M/M, Manticore, Monsters, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Violence, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knotlkr/pseuds/knotlkr
Summary: An detective is hired by a lord to investigate a church. He quickly learns to regret taking the job.
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags carefully. There's quite a bit here that can be "icky" if you're not prepared for it.

The Cathedral of Olios was a sight to behold.

Towering white stone columns. Shining stained glass windows, each at least ten, maybe fifteen feet wide, and twice that in height. Grand, polished oak doors, twenty feet tall, emblazoned with the sigil of Olios and embellished with gold trim. Guards were posted by the entrance, adorned in gleaming steel and fine white cloth, equipped with lances worthy of the finest knights and towering kite shields seemingly built to withstand a catapult.

The context only made the wealth and opulence of the Cathedral more jarring. The surrounding town of Southwatch was in tatters. Ramshackle wooden buildings balanced precariously on muddy, uneven land. The streets sprawled and twisted, growing wider and then tapering, seemingly lacking any kind of direction, organization, or planning. Beggars in tattered, filthy robes, varying in age from children no older than six to elders well past their prime, clung to the shadows in the alleys between buildings. The city stank of unwashed bodies and the fecal matter dumped in the street.

Moderately disgusted by the scene before him, Theo chose to turn his attention away from the surrounding poverty and back to the Cathedral, and his task at hand. His nimble fingers pulled from his pocket a small slip of paper. He’d read it over and over, such that it was firmly committed to his memory, but he’d never been hurt by being careful. Southwatch. Cathedral of Olios. Suspicious wealth. Noises at night. Report to L. H. The lord’s men did love their secrecy. Ominous as it may sound, much of the message was decipherable with context. “Southwatch” was the name of the town, for its position at the southernmost border of the country. The “Cathedral of Olios” was, of course, his target. “L.H.” was Lord Hewelin, the local ruler and his sponsor for this particular mission, a man Theo had yet to meet but had no particular interest to do so. His job was, after all, much easier the less he interacted with his patrons. A note under his door, a mission complete, and a sack of gold upon delivery. Simple. Theo liked it when it was all simple.

He was yanked from his thoughts by the sound of a man clearing his throat. Not a natural process, but a deliberate, haughty, uptight sound, like a man who felt his time was being wasted. “Excuse me, sir. Are you the, ah, the tax assessor? From the lord’s castle? Mister, ah, Theobaldus?”

Theo quickly shoved the note deep in his pocket and looked up. Standing before him was a priest, although that word alone didn’t really give him justice. He was not a balding, middle-aged man wearing a brown sack and clutching a tattered book he couldn’t read. This man was dressed elegantly, as if for a lord’s court: fine black silk robes, well-sized and fitted for his form, and a golden staff, or perhaps a scepter, inlaid with glittering jewels. He wasn’t an old man, either, perhaps in his thirties or forties, with a surprisingly broad and tight build given his profession. He carried himself with an air of authority, not unlike the nobility Theo had interacted with.

Caught off guard, Theo struggled to clear his own throat well enough to speak without rasping. “Oh, uh, no. Well, I mean, yes. I am Theo. Theobaldus, I suppose, but Theo is fine.” He coughed a little into his fist. He’d worked jobs like this once or twice before, but interaction with the wealthy never came easily. “I meant, ‘no’, I’m not a tax assessor. I’m an investigator. A few of the citizens expressed concern around some noises they’ve heard at night, so the lord hired me to look into it. I believe some of his men were supposed to notify you that I was coming.”

The priest sniffed in disdain. While, theoretically, they were in the same class of society- lacking any kind of noble lineage- the priest certainly carried himself with a sense of superiority. “Oh, yes, yes, the ‘investigator’, then.” The word sounded almost ironic on the priest’s lips. “You seem far younger than we were expecting. Practically a child.”

Indignant fury rose up in Theo’s chest, and he fought hard to push it back. Some days, he thought this whole business would be far easier if he could manage to grow a beard. Or a mustache. Anything better than his cheek scruff, at least. “I am well of age. I’ve been an investigator for nearly a year now, and, I assure you, I am more than qualified to identify the squeaky organ or uneven floorboard causing these people concern.”

Was that a smile on the priest’s lips? It flashed only for a fraction of a second before it was gone again, so quickly Theo wasn’t even sure if he’d seen it in the first place. “Very well, very well. Of course, we here at the Cathedral of Olios have nothing to hide. Come in, come in.”

If the Cathedral’s exterior was suitable for a lord’s castle, the interior was fit for a king.

The first thing that Theo noticed was the smell. The air was thick and heady with perfume and oils, so strong and suffocating he thought he might struggle to breathe. The perfumes and oils themselves were sickeningly, overwhelmingly saccharine. Likely as a result of that cloud of perfume in the air, the building was swelteringly hot as well, a significant difference from the cool weather beyond the Cathedral’s doors.

The Cathedral’s interior itself was, of course, remarkable. The entryway deposited visitors onto the aisle, directly across from the altar, several hundred feet away. A hundred of more rows of pews adorned both sides of the aisle, carved of fine polished oak and decorated with lush cushions and gold embellishment. The altar was just as lavish as everything around it- fine silk was draped over a marble slab, decorated with gold plates, goblets, and candleholders. Altogether, it was single-handedly one of the single largest and most opulent rooms Theo had ever been in.

It all took Theo’s breath away. For several long moments, he stood in silence, simply staring out at the massive cathedral, at the stained glass windows and golden altar and arching stone ceiling. He took a few moments trying to speak, but his mouth suddenly felt quite dry. “It’s...ah…”

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” The priest’s voice pipes up behind Theo, interrupting him. “Lathander has truly blessed the humble town of Southwatch, for us to care for such a lovely place of worship.” The priest calmly strode past Theo, making a path down the aisle. “I’ll give you the full tour, I suppose. See if we can’t get down to this nonsense of...what was it? Nighttime noises from this fine Cathedral?”

So the tour began. In many ways, it was quite innocent. Pretty much what Theo would’ve expected from a church of this caliber. The priest instructed him, in that same snide, superior tone, about the history of the Cathedral, its founding by Saint Olios, and its worship of the God of Fertility, Lathander. He viewed the stained glass windows that depicted the founding of Southwatch, and any number of other heavily boring subjects.

The only thing that really caught Theo’s interest, across the entire tour, was the glimpse of a small stairwell headed down into some unknown lower floor. None of the preparation he’d done, or any of the townsfolk he’d spoken to, had mentioned any kind of basement in the Cathedral. When he raised the question, the priest responded with a sour expression, a furrowed brow, and a vague non-answer.

Of course, that secretive basement was the closest Theo had yet to come to unearthing the source of the reported mysterious noises. He knew with certainty he needed to get down there and check it out for himself.

So, Theo made his excuses. He said he wanted to take some time on his own to pray at the altar and broaden his mind before he could continue his investigation, and waved the priest off. The older man clearly wasn’t too convinced, but he bowed and left the central altar room all the same.

As soon as the coast was clear, Theo crept his way through the Cathedral’s hallways and made his way back to the entrance to the secretive basement. A few other priests and worshippers passed on occasion, but he managed to duck behind columns and keep his distance well enough to make it to the door.

Without hesitation, Theo headed down the steps, determined to uncover the secrets held within. The stairwell was significantly less fancy and opulent than the surrounding church; rather, it was more like what Theo would’ve expected from a cathedral. The passage was cramped, dimly-lit, and poorly-constructed. Each step was an uneven width and height, and the ceiling was quite low, forcing Theo to crouch down to avoid slamming his head against the stone roof.

As he continued down the uneven stone stairs, Theo did notice the air becoming even hotter and thicker. The scent of perfume and oil did fade a bit as he moved farther away from the central chamber, but the temperature seemed to skyrocket. He quickly found himself sweating through his shirt, forced to pull it back from his skin to give his chest a chance to breathe.

The stairs widened out into what appeared to be some kind of library. But it certainly wasn’t the majestic, expansive library one would’ve expected from the Cathedral of Olios. Rather, it was cramped, dusty, and suffocating. The walls seemed to close in tightly from every side. Bookcases overflowing with leather-bound tomes covered every wall. The ceiling seemed quite low, almost forcing Theo to duck just to step into the room. Dust covered every visible surface, and a thick layer clouded the floor in grey, with the faint outline of worn footprints in several areas.

Theo glanced over his shoulder to the staircase behind him and paused, waiting to hear if he’d been followed. After a few seconds of silence, he turned his focus to the dusty library ahead of him. He began to shuffle through the shelves, careful not to disturb the dust or leave markings as much as he could manage.

For all intents and purposes, the library was completely and utterly unremarkable. Most of the books he found fell into one of three categories: impenetrable religious texts, equally dull historical accounts, and nonsensical, seemingly random selections ranging from children’s fables to hippogriff anatomy to lizardfolk reproduction. The latter actually caught Theo’s eye for a moment, and he did pick up the book to briefly leaf through its pages, but he promptly shut it as soon as he discovered its abundant use of drawings and diagrams. He hadn’t particularly wanted to know that a lizardfolk’s manhood looked like that, and now that he did, he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to look one in the eye the same way ever again.

In fact, the only moderately interesting book he found in the whole library was one massive tome in the corner. Its dust-laden cover of black leather was adorned with some kind of magical sigil Theo didn’t recognize, inscribed in dull gold ink. When he lifted the book’s cover to peer at the writing within, it was all in a foreign language, certainly not Common. Theo’s gut told him that it used the Celestial script, but he certainly couldn’t understand it.

With a grunt, Theo forced his hands under the tome’s heavy underside and hefted the book up in his arms. As soon as it was removed from the shelf, a grinding, screeching sound filled the library. Theo cried out and dropped the book on the dusty floor, covering his ears to limit their exposure to the shrieking noise.

As he watched, the bookshelf in front of him slowly sank backwards into the wall, just an inch or two at a time. It seemed to move in jerking, uneven motions, as if it was controlled by some kind of mechanism or gear rather than a magical spell. After the shelf pushed several feet into the wall, it swung out to the side like a door with another grinding screech.

Beyond the door was some kind of hidden passageway. It was a small tunnel, carved weakly into the rock. Where the rest of the Cathedral was elegantly and meticulously constructed, this tunnel was primitive and crude, as if novice craftsmen had simply chipped away at the rock with a chisel until it was passable. As Theo stepped into the passage, the heat grew even more intense and unbearable. He felt that he was standing mere inches from a roaring blaze, baking his face with its rays. Sweat glistened across his face and body, forcing Theo to wipe his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

As soon as he stepped into the passageway, the bookshelf screeched and returned to its original position, blocking Theo’s exit and plunging the tunnel into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s something about being blinded underground. Perhaps it’s the purest form of darkness. In the nighttime sky, even on the darkest day of winter, the light of the stars and the moon grant some kind of reprieve from the gloom. Underground, the shadows reign freely, unperturbed by such distractions.

These were the thoughts racing through Theo’s mind as he blindly stumbled his way further down the passage. He held one hand against the wall to his left, using it to guide him along the tunnel’s many twists and turns. He was pretty light on choices, after all. The bookshelf now blocked the path behind him, and it certainly didn’t seem to be budging anytime soon. All he could do is keep moving forward, and hope to unearth the truth behind the Cathedral before he tripped and broke his leg in the dark, or something.

He wasn’t really sure how long he stumbled through that tunnel, blindly grasping for any kind of door or light source or anything to save him from the endless darkness. After what must’ve been at least an hour, the wall to the left, where Theo had been leaning for support, gave out. Theo stumbled forward and fell to all fours in the darkness, completely disoriented.

Finally, the silence was broken. A voice boomed out from the depths of the darkness. “Foolish child, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” That voice… It was far deeper and rougher than Theo remembered, but the way of speaking, the intonation… it was undoubtedly the priest’s voice, amplified and strengthened to tear through the shadows. “You could’ve taken the tour, reported back to your lord that all was well, and been on your way. You probably could’ve been out of Southwatch before our plan came into action. But you had to be the little overachiever.”

Red light blossomed forth from the shadows. First, a single torch ignited, about ten feet forward from where Theo kneeled. Then, another. And another. Soon, no less than a dozen torches, arranged in a huge circle, cast fiery light in the shadows.

Finally, Theo had a good look at the area that surrounded him. He wasn’t in a thin passageway anymore. The tunnel had widened out into a huge cavern, roughly circular in shape, and perhaps forty or fifty feet in diameter, with the stone ceiling standing about thirty or forty feet above Theo’s head. The torches were arranged along the sides of the cavern, leaving the center bare, but well-lit.

Though the priest was nowhere to be seen, his voice thundered out once again, seemingly originating from nowhere. “Now your childish interrogation has forced my hand. I hope you’re proud of yourself, boy. You’ve earned yourself a front-row seat in the calamity of your own making.”

The priest continued to speak, but no longer in the common tongue. Rather, he began to chant some kind of infernal incantation. His thunderous voice gradually grew louder and louder as the chant escalated and quickened, until every demonic syllable seemed to thud in Theo’s skull.

Fire erupted in the center of the cavern. Even without any source of fuel, it quickly roared into a blazing inferno, larger and stronger than any Theo had ever seen. The heat grew so intense, he began to worry his clothes may ignite spontaneously from mere exposure alone, and he fearfully stumbled backwards, pressing his back against the stone wall behind him.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it all came to an end. The fire choked and faded, leaving just a few trails of smoke in its wake. Where the fire had once been, however, was a new symbol, burned solidly into the stone floor and glowing like embers: a pentagram. Also known as a summoning circle for demons and other beasts of hell. The priest’s chant ended soon after, leaving the cavern silent but for the sputtering of the torches.

The ground rumbled and shook. Theo gripped the stone wall tightly with both hands for support, only able to watch in horror as the stone within the pentagram shattered, before erupting forth like a volcano, scattering shards of rock across the cavern.

A skeletal appendage ripped forth from the pentagram, and grasped tightly on the rock around it. It wasn’t quite shaped like a human hand- it lacked prehensile digits and much flexibility. Rather, it seemed almost like a skeletal paw, complete with massive claws, each longer than Theo’s entire hand.

The claws sunk into the stone, easily tearing gashes through the surface. It seemed to grip the earth for support before it pulled. More of the beast’s skeletal body emerged. First, a skull, somewhat feline in shape but adorned with a series of massive spiked horns on the temples and disproportionately gargantuan fangs. Then, two bony wings, naturally draconic in shape. The wings spread out as if savoring the free space, revealing a wingspan of at least a four or five yards, if not far larger. Finally, the rest of the body broke forth from the earth. Again, it was largely feline in shape, generally quadruped and typical, but far, far larger than any cat ought to be, perhaps one and a half as tall and wide as a large stallion. Other spikes, not unlike those on the thing’s forehead, ran along its spine, over its joints, and on its paws.

Theo’s heart sunk when he caught sight of one last appendage. A bony, scorpion-like tail erupted from the monstrosity’s rear, about two yards long and fully prehensile. Even in its dry, skeletal form, the tail was tipped with a bony stinger larger than Theo’s head, sending shudders down his spine.

To Theo’s continued terror, the skeleton then began to grow flesh. Blood spilled out from its bones, soon painting the monstrosity maroon, before tissue emerged. Raw, bloody muscle grew around the bones and joints. Blood converged within the rib cage, forming a beating heart and other internal guts Theo couldn’t hope to identify. Tissues solidified collectively into muscle groups, granting the beast the appearance of a sort of skinned lion, adorned with perverse bony wings and pierced with bone spikes across its spine and joints.

Finally, the thing grew its covering of skin and fur. Relative to the bloody mess of forming organs, this process was quite simple. A thick coat of reddish-brown fur unfurled, starting at the beast’s forehead but quickly running down its entire body, completing its lion-like appearance. Its wings grew skin as well, though it remained thin and translucent, not unlike a bat’s.

It was in that way that Theo found himself sitting in front of what was undoubtedly a hellish manticore. If he could manage to ignore its bat-like wings, and the spikes along its body, and the scorpion-like tail, he could almost consider this thing to be simply a freakish lion, with a reddish-brown coat and a glorious black mane that covered most of its head and half of its chest and back as well. The illusion was shattered when Theo looked into the thing’s glowing red eyes and saw, rather than the mindless fury of a beast, a contemplative and sinister intelligence.

The manticore’s monstrous jaws parted, and, to Theo’s shock, it spoke. “I wasn’t told I’d have company.” Its voice was deeper than any man’s, even more than the priest’s magically augmented chanting. It seemed to thunder and rumble through the cavern, but was deceptively smooth, lacking the rasp, lisp, or stutter Theo would’ve expected from a monster. “Unless… Ah. I see what’s happened here.”

Theo clumsily crawled backwards, trying to press his back deeper into the stone wall in hopes of keeping as much distance from the thing as possible. “I-I…” He exhaled shakily, and swallowed, trying to compose himself. “Y-y-you’re a demon!” He sputtered, unable to come up with anything better.

“Quite the investigative prodigy, aren’t you?” The manticore’s voice sounded dull, almost as if he was bored by Theo’s response, but the beast’s eyes never turned away from Theo’s own. “It’s a bit of a racist assumption, but I don’t mind. Technically, I’m a devil. Demons make war. Devils make deals.” The manticore’s feline muzzle twisted into some kind of cruel imitation of a smirk, flashing its primal fangs. “Of course, in this particular instance, I made a deal to make war, so I understand how you’re struggling with the concept.”

Theo’s breath was quickening. He couldn’t keep a hand on his own heartbeat. The sweltering heat of the cavern was getting to him, and he was about thirty seconds from the biggest panic attack of his life. He squeezed a hand on his chest, trying to give his heart some rest. “Are you g-going to k-kill me?”

The manticore tilted its monstrous head ever so slightly, as if he was contemplating the young man sitting before him. “Probably. I haven’t tasted human flesh in centuries. You do have the most delectable intestines, you know. I’d prefer a young virgin girl for my first meal after the trip, of course, but life isn’t perfect.” The devil’s smirk seemed to deepen, giving Theo a horrifying glimpse into its fang-lined maw. “Unless you want to make a deal.”

Theo swallowed again. “A deal?”

“I can offer you twenty-four hours of protection from the horrors to come,” the manticore replied in his sly, smooth drawl. “I suppose you’ll just have to take my word for it, but I promise, things are about to get pretty horrific.” Did the manticore just… wink? Theo was too caught up in his personal terror to know for sure one way or another. “Just sign on the dotted line.”

A scroll magically appeared in the air right in front of Theo’s face. It unfurled, revealing long sprawls of text, all written in an Infernal script he couldn’t possibly hope to understand. A quill popped into existence beside it, dipped in ink and ready to go.

Theo hesitantly turned his attention back to the manticore. “I-I can’t read this. What does it say?”

The manticore waved its paw as if it was no big deal. Of course, that paw was bigger than Theo’s head, lined with spikes, and adorned with monstrous claws, so it wasn’t a comforting gesture. “It’s all pretty boilerplate. You sell your soul and whatnot for protection from what’s to come, as well as complete freedom, for twenty-four hours. You can be assured I’m good for my word.”

“And I say ‘no’?”

The manticore flashed those fangs again. This time, Theo could see clearly as lines of drool ran down the length of ivory, collecting in droplets at the razor-sharp tip. “There’s no summoning circle or religious protection for you here, human. So I’ll kill you myself. I thought that was pretty clear at this point. My contract to destroy Southwatch gives me quite a bit of autonomy to do whatever I want. One more body won’t make a difference. Especially after it’s digested.”

Theo wasn’t in a mood to call the devil’s bluff. After one more look at those drool-slick fangs, he picked up the quill and scrawled away his signature on the dotted line. As soon as he was done, the quill blinked out of existence from his hand. The scroll folded onto itself before it disappeared into thin air as well.

Where the scroll and quill once were, a new object appeared, hovering in the air about two feet from Theo’s head. It appeared to be a kind of small rod, about one inch in diameter and five inches long. From what he could tell, it was made of black rock, perhaps obsidian, but was fairly smooth and polished. Theo reached out and scooped up the rod, which fit comfortably in his palm. “What is this? A wand?”

The manticore let out a low rumble in his chest. It took Theo a moment to realize that the beast might be laughing. “In a way. That’s how I’m holding up my end of the deal. That’ll keep you safe from what’s to come for twenty-four hours.”

Theo turned the rod over in his hand, studying it carefully. “How will it keep me safe? Is it, like, a magic weapon or something? Do I need to wear it around my neck?”

“No, it’s not a weapon. Think of it more as a… demon repellent. It infuses into your aura. None of my friends will bother you while you use it.” The manticore’s glowing red eyes took on a new sinister gleam. “It needs to be inserted, and remain for the whole twenty-four hour period.”

Theo cleared his throat. “Inserted?”

“You might find it difficult to sit for a little while, but I assure you, you’ll prefer it to being slaughtered by demonic monsters.” The manticore’s chest laughing seemed to grow somewhat stronger and louder, though he barely cracked a smile. “Just make sure you don’t remove it.”

Theo’s heart sank. He’d heard of the types of freaks who would do that sort of thing, of course- perverts, buggerers, and creeps, the kind who distort what nature intended. But he’d always been better than that. He was a man of dignity. Skeptical, Theo brought his attention back to the obsidian rod, turning it around in his hand and feeling its cool surface. Would it even fit if he wanted to?

“I’ll guide you through it.” The manticore’s deep voice seemed unusually smug. “Go on all fours and drop the trousers. Since I’m such a considerate patron, I made the instrument self-lubricate. Should slide right in.”

Heat rushed to Theo’s cheeks. He decided to turn away and leave his back to the manticore. It might leave him in a more vulnerable position, but he certainly couldn’t look the devil in the eyes while he did the deed. In all honesty, he couldn’t bring himself to think about the consequences of his action. He’d barely even thought about what signing that scroll would really entail. All he knew was that he needed to survive just a little bit longer, and the manticore seemed content to rip him apart without a moment’s hesitation.

He did as he was told. He kneeled on his hands and knees, wincing as the stone scraped against his bare palms and knees. Clumsy fingers struggled to untie his trousers, but, as soon as they did succeed, the hot, dense air of the cavern washed over Theo’s bare backside. Only a second later did he realize his mistake.

“Not a terrible view, you know. I expected worse,” the devil commented.

Though Theo couldn’t see the monster himself, he could practically feel those glowing red eyes burning into his rear. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered to himself, just under his breath. He pressed one side of the obsidian rod against his untouched entrance, and closed his eyes, horrified about what he was about to do.

In a second, it was done. Half of the rod sank smoothly into Theo’s passage with surprisingly little resistance. The first thing that he felt was an immediate burst of pain, as his ring constricted and tightened, being forced to stretch around the invading object. The second thing that he noticed was the dampness. The manticore had mentioned it was lubricated, but that didn’t prepare him for the sensation of the slick fluid soaking into his most sensitive and vulnerable skin, as well as dripping out of the clenching ring, down his taint.

Then, somewhat more difficult to describe, was the intense pressure on his prostate. It wasn’t something he’d ever really experienced before, so he didn’t have anything to compare it to, but it was thoroughly… odd. It didn’t hurt, necessarily, but it did produce a bizarre sensation around his cock, which was perfectly and thoroughly flaccid. He felt that primal urge, almost like he might need to piss, but he couldn’t produce anything except a tiny clear drop of fluid at the tip of his soft shaft. Slowly but surely, Theo eased the obsidian rod deeper, relieved, at least, that the last few inches didn’t really make a difference in sensation.

Theo had expected to humiliate himself. He’d expected that it would hurt. But he’d never considered how much worse it would be if he enjoyed it.

Shame crested and overflowed within Theo’s chest. He collapsed onto his side, resenting the feeling of the rod buried firmly in his asshole, the fluid dripping out of his clenching red ring, and the involuntarily flexing in his soft cock as his muscles milked and squeezed the invading object. He dimly looked up at the manticore, but his vision was growing blurry, and he was struggling to focus.

Vaguely, he could hear the manticore’s laughter once more, but he didn’t really register any of it. “You really took that like a natural. Now I’m glad I chose not to kill you.” The devil lifted one monstrous paw into the air, separating one claw from the others. In a single, decisive swipe, the manticore slashed through the air. He seemed to cut a gash in the very fabric of reality, forming a doorway to a dark void. “I’ll see you in twenty-four hours. I hope you like what I do with the place.”

The rift in reality expanded into a portal to darkness. As Theo lost consciousness, he foggily processed several impish demons emerging from the rift into the torchlight. Before he could object, though, the darkness closed in on him, and he collapsed.


	3. Chapter 3

Theo awoke to the smell.

If it wasn't for that smell, he probably would’ve slept for several hours longer. But, with his nostrils filled with the stench brimstone and salt and sweat and some general bestial scent, he couldn’t rest any longer. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately had to fight back a gag.

The cavern around him had been completely destroyed. All but two of the dozen torches were knocked over, broken, or both. Blood and tufts of fur were scattered across the room. The portal to hell that the manticore slashed was still open and rippling, but Theo seemed entirely alone.

A mere few seconds after opening his eyes, Theo was overwhelmed by the throbbing in his ass. Wincing, he lifted one leg and looked down at his rear. It looked like the rod wasn’t stretching him out anymore, at least, but it did leave a lingering soreness on his ring, as well as the tenderness in his shaft and prostate.

Scowling, Theo reached over to grab his trousers. Immediately, his fingers sank into the thoroughly damp fabric, and he recoiled in disgust. His clothes reeked of brimstone and piss. Maybe the rod had protected Theo from being bothered by the demons while he was unconscious, but it seemed his clothes weren’t extended the same courtesy.

But time was of the essence, and Theo had no intention of leaving the cavern completely nude. So, he reluctantly pulled the piss-soaked clothes on to cover the obsidian rod buried in his virginal asshole, and set out.

Theo was able to find his way back to the original tunnel he’d taken from the secret library well enough. While the passage was still completely dark, he was now familiar enough with its linear pathing to make his way back to the first entrance with some ease. Walking with the weight and pressure on his prostate took some getting used to, and certainly hampered his pace, but he managed. Fortunately, at the end of the tunnel, he found that the bookshelf was moved out of the way, leaving the way open; mercifully, he wasn’t locked within the cavern as he’d originally thought.

The library, however, was completely trashed. Blood, fur, and any other unmentionable substances were scattered across the room. Books were torn off of shelves and ripped to pieces, and many other shelves were entirely knocked over or broken apart. The degree of destruction was starting to worry Theo about what he might find on the surface… but there wasn’t anything he could do now. He just had to keep moving.

The Cathedral of Olios was likewise trashed. It wasn’t anything Theo hadn’t seen at this point for the most part, but he did find a few bodies of priests, presumably killed by the demons. He couldn’t bear to investigate their grotesque corpses personally, and tried to shove the horrific images from his mind. Determined to get to the bottom of what had happened, Theo shoved his way through the front door, and stepped out into the street.

What he found there was a hellscape. The sky over Southwatch had darkened to a maroon red. Neither the sun nor the moon was visible, both covered completely by the dark, hellish clouds overhead.

Demons and monsters swarmed the streets. Packs of imps grouped together to loot market stalls and establishments. Stronger, larger demons assaulted citizens, binding them in chains or collars before fucking to their heart’s desire. All down the street, Theo’s eyes were filled with sights of unspeakable violence and vicious, bestial rape by all manners of disgusting beasts.

In the distance, Lord Hewelin’s castle was under raid by the strongest monsters Hell had to offer. Theo watched as one demonic-looking dragon-creature ripped a tower off of the castle’s foundation, sending stone crashing down to the earth. Another section of the castle caved in. Demonic brutes finally managed to break down the steel gate, swarming into the fortress’ interior. Theo’s heart sank at the sight. The lord’s soldiers were his last hope that Southwatch might resist the demonic invasion.

Horrified and panicking, Theo ran down the street, hoping to find any suggestion of survivors or a resistance. Bizarrely, he found he was completely ignored by the demons and beasts he passed, as if he was a ghost. He even accidentally brushed against a particularly foul cloven-legged brute while he was fucking the market’s vegetable vendor against the Cathedral’s stone wall, but didn’t even draw a sour look. The manticore’s “gift” was shady and thoroughly uncomfortable, no doubt about it, but it did appear to keep him safe from the same grisly fate the townsfolk were suffering.

Theo did notice, at the top of the Cathedral’s tallest spire, stood the manticore. He seemed to be supervising the demonic invasion of Southwatch with a steely, impartial approval. As Theo watched him, he saw the manticore’s eyes lower to meet his own, even from several hundred yards away. The sight of those glowing red eyes, even at a great distance, sent shudders down his spine.

Theo wanted to spend his twenty-four hours of freedom and autonomy wisely. He didn’t. The first few hours he wandered the ruined streets, hoping to find survivors. He never did. Everywhere he went, the Southwatch streets were filled exclusively with sights of monsters raping, enslaving, and killing. Not once did he find a single person who hadn’t already been brought low by the demonic invasion.

After he gave up on that pursuit, he decided to find a private space to distance himself from the horrors of the streets. He found an old tavern that was largely left untouched by the invading forces, and made himself comfortable in a corner booth. Theo simply crawled up on the chair and covered himself in a blanket, trying to ignore the throbbing weight in his asshole and the sounds of destruction all around him. It was in that position he tried to give himself some more rest, one last moment of peace before whatever horrors would come next.

Theo did sleep, but not for long. His brief reverie in the abandoned tavern was interrupted by a powerful thud on the wooden roof. His eyes snapped open and he bolted upright in his seat, recoiling away from the noise.

Another thud slammed on the roof, then another. Finally, the wooden roof cracked open, with several shattered panels of wood collapsing onto the floor. Theo gazed up at the new hole in the ceiling and saw the manticore, perched on the roof. His huge paws easily tore through the wood as if it was parchment, sending more panels caving in and plummeting to the floor. “Time’s up. I hope you like what I did with Southwatch. A serious improvement in leadership, no?”

Theo didn’t respond. He simply watched as the manticore continued ripping the tavern apart. His raw strength and size made it quick work. One wall collapsed outward, followed by another. Theo felt the remnants of the building begin to cave in towards him and he dove forward, dodging away before the wreckage trapped him.

So Theo found himself standing in the ruins of the collapsed building, face-to-face with the demonic manticore. Those glowing red eyes peered back into his own, and he let out a heavy sigh, barely able to keep his heart rate under control.

“Wh-what happens now?” Theo couldn’t bear to look at the monster standing before him, so he lowered his gaze to the devil’s huge paws. Another shudder ran down his spine as he studied the spikes running along the bone, and the gargantuan claws along each digit.

He didn’t get a vocal response. Instead, one of those massive paws, easily larger than his head, snapped forward and slammed into his chest. Theo cried out as the force and weight behind the movement easily brought him down into the dirt. Mercifully, the claws were spread wide enough on the digits to avoid scraping his face, but they did dig into his shoulders and arms. A bestial musk of brimstone, salt, and sweat filled Theo’s nose, eliciting a cough and drawing tears in the corners of his eyes.

The manticore promptly leaned down, lowering his feline muzzle to rest mere inches away from Theo’s own face. Deep, sweltering hot gusts of air swamped Theo’s head with each of the manticore’s heavy exhales, overwhelming his senses with the bloody stench of the beast’s breath. “You had your twenty-four hours of protection and freedom, as we agreed.” The manticore’s lips split into a devious smirk, revealing those primal, massive fangs. Drool dribbled from the tips of its fangs onto Theo’s cheek, but he couldn’t even think about commenting on it. “Now I get what I want. Your servitude. Your body. And your soul. I hope it was worth it.”


	4. Chapter 4

The manticore’s maw opened, and Theo found himself staring directly past the layers of razor-sharp fangs and into the devil’s throat. He thought, for a moment, that this might be the end. The manticore turned his head to the side, so that his top layer of fangs pressed into Theo’s right cheek, while his lower layer pressed into the left. Billows of sweltering, foul breath overwhelmed the young man’s senses once more, and he cringed, almost afraid he might vomit.

The bite of death never came. Instead, the manticore’s huge, barbed tongue forced itself into Theo’s own mouth. Despite being fully prehensile, it had a strength and force comparable to any other muscle, and easily wrenched Theo’s mouth open. The manticore’s tongue sank into his throat, and Theo soon found himself forced to suck on the foul, soaking flesh, just to keep his airway unobstructed. Something about the devil currently pinning him down made him quite positive that the manticore wouldn’t care if he suffocated mid-frenching.

The “kiss” ended as abruptly as it began. The manticore ripped its barbed tongue out from Theo’s throat, but kept its face hovering a few inches away from Theo’s, continuing to drool directly onto his cheek. “Hell, am I going to enjoy you.” The manticore’s voice, once smooth and sly, came out husky, almost as a deep growl. “Now use those nimble little fingers of yours to get those trousers off, or I’ll rip them off myself, and take some flesh off when I do.”

Theo didn’t need any more indication. Still unable to tear his eyes away from the primal, huge fangs inches above his face, he quickly and clumsily shoved his trousers down off his feet, kicking them to the side. His face flushed with embarrassment as his entirely soft shaft and the obsidian rod buried in his asshole became visible, but he remained silent.

“You’re already a good, obedient bitch, aren’t you?” The manticore pressed his muzzle against Theo’s throat and breathed in. The young man cringed as he felt the huge, damp nose twitching and exhaling on his soft skin, but he remained as still as he could. “Good with commands. Now, you’re going to want to hold still… this is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if I miss.”

Theo was at a loss at first, but comprehension dawned on him when he looked over the manticore’s shoulder. He’d almost forgotten the devil’s scorpion-like tail, but now, as the tail arched and tilted downward towards Theo’s chest, he felt his heart beating out of his chest. “N-no, no, please don’t sting me with that thing, please, please…” He kicked his legs up, trying to shove the stinger away, but he ended up simply flailing. He ended up with his feet resting on the manticore’s furry chest, with his ass pointed towards the devil’s tail. “Please!”

Upon Theo’s flailing panic, the manticore’s smirk disappeared and was replaced with an annoyed, growling scowl. “Well, nobody’s perfect. I did tell you so, you stupid bitch.” Theo saw the tail arch even further, before it snapped forward, moving in for the sting.

Agonizing pain blossomed from the backside of Theo’s balls, close to his taint. It started as a single piercing pain, as if he’d been stabbed by a spear or blade or something else, but amplified far beyond any wound he’d ever received. Theo cried out in pain and clenched the manticore’s huge paw, the one still on his chest, with both hands for grip. “F-fuck!” He sobbed, tears running down his cheeks. He swear he could feel the warm, sticky blood dribbling down his taint and asscheeks.

Just as the pain of the initial piercing began to fade, and Theo thought it might almost be done, the burning began. It began slowly at first, just a small twinge of discomfort at the impact spot on the back of his balls, but, over the next several seconds, it began to fester and ache. Soon, the pain had dramaticized far beyond what the piercing had ever been. Theo swore his balls were on fire, or dying, or melting, or all of it at once. His cheeks were slick with tears, but he couldn’t stop the sobbing.

Eventually, the pain lightened, until it was reduced to just a faint buzzing on the impact spot. The manticore removed its paw from Theo’s chest, standing backwards to peer at Theo from a greater distance. His glowing red eyes particularly bore onto the young man’s ass with a fierce, intensive hunger. “I did pretty well with this one, bitch. No thanks to you. Take a look.”

Theo followed the manticore’s gaze downward, and looked at his own crotch. What he saw horrified him. His balls were now covered in wrinkled, black skin, and seemed to be held much tighter against his body. They seemed to have lost some mass, as well, and were left at perhaps half of their original size. The incision site was actually quite neat, but there was no shortage of blood on his surrounding thighs and ass.

Theo exhaled shakily as he raised one hand to wipe the tears from his cheek. “Wh-what did you do to me?” He hesitantly ran his hand over his damaged balls, wincing as he brushed the sore, delicate flesh. “What is this?”

“It’s my mark. I give it to all my bitches. The venom’s properties are fairly standard… Infertility, reduced confidence and masculinity and whatnot.” The manticore’s red eyes bore back into Theo’s, and seemed to notice the young man’s terrified expression. “Oh, wouldn’t you just relax? You’re lucky I even let you keep those stupid things. There’s nothing I hate more than when my balls hit my bitch’s. Total turn off.”

Theo’s heart rate skyrocketed once more. He’d been able to avoid the permanence of the whole situation before that moment. A part of him had thought he’d escape somehow, or be rescued. That this was just one event, and not his ending. But now, he was permanently modified. Marked. Possessed.

The manticore didn’t seem interested in letting Theo have a moment to collect his thoughts. The devil stepped forward to stand completely overtop of the young man’s body. Theo found himself staring upward directly onto the underside of the feline beast’s chest. The devil’s foul musk filled his nostrils once more, eliciting another pained cough.

“Now you’re going to see what the cock of a real male looks like.” The manticore stepped forward once more, so that Theo’s face was now practically buried inches from the devil’s crotch. The musk intensified as he was given a firsthand look at the manticore’s jewels. The sheath was huge, easily several inches bigger than Theo’s own cock at his largest and three times thicker. The cock emerged from it was, by comparison, monstrous- perhaps a foot and a half in length and several inches in diameter. The shaft was feline in shape, with a rigid, pointed tip, a series of long barbs along the entire length, and a dark maroon color. His balls were proportional with his shaft, as well: massive, heavy, furry, and foul. “Don’t you see?” The manticore’s voice rumbled out from far above Theo in a snide taunt. “You were never going to compare, not even at your best. None of your pathetic kind ever could. This is manhood. Virility. Power.” The manticore shifted forward to place Theo’s head at a slightly different angle in his crotch. “Now suck my tailhole, neutered bitch.”

Theo had lost any desire to try to resist. He was resigned to his fate. Theo obediently leaned forward to press his lips against the devil’s furry anal ring, and began to lick, cringing at the foul taste of sulfur. The manticore only gave him a few moments to acclimate, however, before he crouched down, forcing his tongue deeper into his ass and resting his heavy, furred balls on Theo’s face. Blood flooded Theo’s cheeks in shame, but he continued licking and sucking regardless.

His own cock remained perpetually soft between his legs, but one or two drops of very watery pre-cum emerged at the tip. His ass, however, was eagerly milking the obsidian rod still buried within, squeezing and stroking the toy against his prostate and sending small shocks of shameful pleasure across his body.

“You like sucking the devil’s ass, my sweet little whore?” The manticore’s voice did seem to be growing rougher and closer to a growl the more time that passed, but Theo wasn’t sure if it was muffled by the manticore’s family jewels covering his face. “I bet you’d love to try to stick your little prick in if you could. But I doubt I’d feel it.”

Without warning, it stopped. The manticore abruptly lifted his crotch off of Theo’s face and stepped away, leaving the young man with the taste of devil asshole on his lips and a bestial musk clinging to his skin. “It’s time your real test of faith, my bitch. You’re going to take my cock, or die trying. Now, get on all fours.”

The obsidian rod slid out of his asshole without any resistance, leaving a sloppy, well-lubricated passage in its wake. Theo let it clatter to the dirt. He quickly scrambled up to his hands and knees, raising his ass to present to the manticore standing behind him. “I-I’m ready,” he murmured, staring down at his hands.

“I don’t care,” the manticore replied, followed by a decisive snap of his huge fangs. Theo quickly found a huge weight on his chest. It took a moment to identify, but the sinking of claws onto his shoulders and rib cage revealed it was one of the manticore’s paws, undoubtedly an effort to hold him still. The other paw was placed several feet ahead of Theo’s head.

Theo wasn’t given any warning before his virginity was taken. The first six inches of the manticore’s barbed cock sunk into Theo’s wet asshole, eliciting a howl of pain as his walls were spread two inches further apart than he’d ever experienced. The manticore didn’t rest, and continued to force the monstrous shaft another few inches deeper.

Then, the manticore’s cock was drawn back. And Theo screamed. The hellish barbs along the bestial shaft raked and clawed Theo’s stretching walls. As he panted heavily and desperately, chest heaving for air, Theo thought he finally understood the barbs’ purpose. They were transforming, disfiguring, his asshole. He would never fit properly with anything else again, and, as the small part in the back of his mind thought, he’d never be satisfied with anything else.

Theo came. Kind of. His cock remained soft the whole time, and just dribbled out a few drops of cum rather than any kind of real spurt, but he did reach orgasm. Pleasure arched through his body in powerful waves, and his tight hole eagerly clenched down on the barbed, bestial cock driving into him.

The climax sent the manticore into a fit of laughter, though it never let its amusement slow down the pace of its thrusts. “Congratulations on your first anal orgasm, my little whore.” The devil’s claws clenched down even more tightly on Theo’s back, shoving his face down and grinding his cheek into the dirt. “Some bitches can’t get off like this at all. I have to give them a pussy for it. But you’re special, aren’t you? This is what you were meant for.” The claws tightened further, and Theo felt his own blood trickle down his sides. “This is your destiny. This is your eternity.”

The monstrous, barbed cock thrust deep into Theo’s asshole for one last time, and erupted countless ropes of cum into the young man’s sore, stretched asshole. As the last few dregs of the load drained with him, Theo dimly let his tearstained eyes drift shut even as his cheek was still forced into the dirt. “I-is it over…?”

Theo felt a thick glob of bestial spit land on his cheek, undoubtedly the manticore’s assertion of dominance. “You sold me your soul, my little bitch. This will never be over for you.”


	5. Epilogue

Several days must’ve passed since Southwatch fell.

Granted, there wasn’t really any way to tell for sure. Days and nights were indeterminable in that sweltering hellscape. The sun never rose behind the bloodred clouds that covered the sky. The respite of cool nighttime air never came to relieve the town of the omnipresent infernal heat. For all intents and purposes, Hell had come to Southwatch.

The manticore established the Cathedral of Olios as its base of operations. The room of holy communion was thoroughly trashed. Most of the pews were crushed and broken, and the few that remained were turned over or knocked aside. The altar was toppled, replaced with a massive obsidian throne.

The devilish manticore sat upon that throne at that very moment. It seemed sized just for its gargantuan body, though it still appeared positively perverse. The devil sat much like a dog or a cat on the wide seat. Its monstrous claws sunk into the black stone, slicing grooves into it as if it was soft as butter. Deep, rumbling growls rumbled forth from the devil’s chest every so often, as if indicating its satisfaction.

Theo kneeled in front of the throne, and shoved his tongue down the manticore’s sheath.

Over the last few days, he’d come to firmly believe that it was his least favorite of the manticore’s “tasks”. It might be even worse than when his face was smothered by the manticore’s hindquarters, and his tongue forced into its furry tailhole. The taste was positively foul: meaty, salty, sweaty, and raw, in a way he couldn’t describe even if he wanted to. The accompanying stench wasn’t much better, though part of it was likely due to the fact that Theo’s face was buried firmly in the devil’s crotch. Coarse fur tickled his chin and throat. He could even feel the perverse body heat of the manticore’s monstrous balls, a few inches away from his chest.

Theo fought back a gag as he felt his tongue graze...something. He recoiled, trying to lift his head up and away from the devil’s sheath. Immediately, an intense weight gripped the back of his head, forcing his tongue deep within the furry shaft once more. Bile welled up in his throat as he realized what he’d touched- the very tip of the manticore’s cock, about two inches deep in its sheath.

The memory of the first time the manticore forced his tongue down its sheath hadn’t faded in Theo’s mind. It must’ve been a couple days ago now, but it was seared into Theo’s mind. He hadn’t lasted longer than a second or two at first exposure before he’d yanked his head away and vomited onto the Cathedral’s rug.

The manticore didn’t like that. Idly, one of Theo’s hands brushed over his lower belly, then down to his completely flaccid manhood. The deep, numerous scars from the devil’s punishment for that failure still burned at the touch. The fit of bestial fury into which manticore had erupted still sent a shudder down Theo’s spine days later. It had only been a single strike of the manticore’s beastly paw, but that was more than enough to shred Theo’s delicate skin. Even now, the claw marks hadn’t fully scabbed over. He supposed he should be thankful his genitals were intact at all.

Theo’s musings were briefly interrupted as the grip of the beastly paw on the back of his head tightened, forcing his mouth around the monstrous sheath. His lips locked around the furry, damp tube as his tongue rubbed against the pointed tip of the devil’s retracted cock. The paw relaxed its grasp but remained resting upon the top of Theo’s head, as if petting a dog. A deep rumble commenced from within the manticore’s broad chest, indicating its satisfaction.

He didn’t even know why the manticore forced this act upon him. It certainly wasn’t for sexual relief. Theo had witnessed the manticore relieving himself mere minutes earlier, when a few demons dragged in a poor woman off the streets and into the Cathedral for just that purpose. Theo hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but she’d looked familiar. A part of him suspected that she was Lord Hewelin’s wife. Or maybe his daughter. It didn’t matter. If Theo didn’t recognize her fresh off the streets, he certainly couldn’t identify her half an hour later when she was on all fours, mounted by the manticore like a bitch in heat.

It really was irrelevant. He saw how enthusiastic the imps were to carry her away, after the manticore was done with her. He knew what that meant. He knew he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

So Theo’s prevailing theory of why his tongue was being forced down a manticore’s sheath, then, was humiliation. The devil did seem to love humiliating him, after all. Wasn’t that why he had to do all the damn begging, the “yes, master” and the “thank you, master” and the “may I please be fucked, master”? Wasn’t that why he’d spent the last night sucking the dirt and filth off the furry pads of the manticore’s feet? Wasn’t that why he could barely go an hour without being “lent” out to some oily tentacle monster or rank hellhound or repulsive hound-sized spider, and raped in the middle of the Cathedral’s aisle?

He was tired of it all. So, so tired. The dark bags under his eyes were fully exposed, even despite the layer of tears and demonic cum that coated his cheeks. Bruises covered his hands, knees, and elbows. The incisions left by the manticore’s strike, the ones that slashed over his stomach, crotch, and manhood, weren’t alone- similar scrapes, cuts, and bitemarks decorated his entire body. His rear had suffered even worse. The ring had completely swollen and taken on a brilliant shade of maroon. The deep slashes from the manticore’s barbs were abundantly visible, but even if they weren’t distinct, his hole’s sheer looseness would still reveal the evidence of his bestial suitor.

“That’s enough, my little bitch.” The manticore’s voice tore through Theo’s thoughts. Its paw grasped around the back of his head and shoved him back, pulling his tongue out of the furry tube. Theo now found himself staring face-to-face with the manticore’s huge sheath, with a complete view into the damp, fleshy, meaty interior his tongue had been mere seconds earlier. He clumsily licked his lips and spit down onto the Cathedral’s carpet, trying in vain to clean the taste from his mouth. He was unable to tear his eyes from the huge, bestial sheath, even as the manticore continued speaking, saying “Now, open wide.”

It was a command Theo had heard regularly. Even if he was miserable, if he hated this damn devil and the disgusting things he was forced to do, his will to rebel was quickly diminishing. Theo kept telling himself he was just being practical. He knew firsthand the manticore had no qualms about beating and clawing him for disobedience. But, in the bottom of his heart, he knew the truth. He knew it was the manticore’s mark that he bore: the charred, blackened skin loose around his shrunken balls, sapping his confidence, his resolution, and his pride.

So he obediently opened his mouth and stood still. He didn’t have to wait long. Piss hosed out from the tip of the manticore’s sheath. The first squirt hit Theo’s eye, which he quickly squeezed shut after a wince. The manticore shifted the angle of his hips, directing the stream directly into Theo’s mouth. Piss quickly filled the young man’s cheeks and violated his throat. He had no desire to be punished, but even that fear wasn’t enough motivation to suppress his gag reflex. Theo coughed up the salty fluid and quickly shut his mouth, but otherwise stayed still.

If he could manage to ignore the stench of piss clinging to his skin, he could almost pretend he was bathing under a waterfall, warmed by a natural spring. The idea of washing himself in clean, soapy water, of expunging his skin of all this filth… it was the closest Theo came to an erection in days. He was so tired of the dried blood, cum, and dirt coating his skin, especially his face and ass. He hadn’t had a chance to even dry himself off with a clean cloth in all these days.

Theo hadn’t been hungry or thirsty in days, either. He truly wanted to believe that it was a side effect of the deal he’d made with the manticore, or something, but in his heart, he knew it wasn’t true. When he awoke after each period of fitful, miserable sleep, there was a craving within him- a primal need only satisfied when a foul demon bent him over and abused him. No matter how much he hated it, his body was sated. Theo had no doubt the manticore would find it hilarious if he was addicted to demon cum.

Gradually, the hose of piss tapered off into a stream. Then, it reduced to a simple dribble of fluid from the sheath’s tip, running down to dampen and stain the fur of the manticore’s crotch. Theo’s stomach turned at the sight, but he remained silent. He had no doubt he’d be cleaning those stains himself later in the day, likely by tongue.

The manticore spoke once more, though Theo couldn’t bring himself to look up at the devil’s face. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” The paw on the back of his head rubbed in a small circle, once more giving Theo the distinct impression of being treated like a small, stupid pet. “You’re getting better. Still quite inadequate, but better.”

Indignant rage welled up in Theo’s chest, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since he’d received the manticore’s sting to his family jewels. “Sh-shut up,” he growled under his breath. He tried to wipe some of the piss from his lips, and spit out onto the carpet once more.

Immediately, the paw on the back of his head clenched tightly. Claws sank into the back and sides of his throat, just barely piercing the skin. The pressure on Theo’s skull quickly intensified even further. His heartrate skyrocketed in response, and his breathing grew short and quick. Surely this wasn’t how it ended? His skull crushed while his face was buried in the devil’s crotch? It seemed unlikely, but the pressure wasn’t letting up. Discomfort blossomed in his temple, and Theo let out a cry of pain.

“Seems you have a few dregs of hormones left in those useless balls after all. Be thankful I’ll let you keep your tongue after that comment, whore. But I would encourage you to be wiser in what you say.” The manticore’s tone grew icy and cold. Gone were the fun and games of humiliation and shame. This was a matter of life and death. “All I need from you is a throat, an ass, and a soul. The rest is superfluous.”

The manticore’s grasp released his skull. Theo immediately collapsed onto the Cathedral’s stained carpet. His chest heaved as he took several long, deep breaths, while he brought one hand up to clench at his heart. He was alive, for now.

The young man looked up at the devil, still perched upon its obsidian throne. Dark, glowing red eyes peered back at him. Cruel, possessive eyes. “This is your last warning. Next time you disobey me, I start cutting.”

Theo swallowed, wishing he could ignore the foul taste lingering in his throat and on his tongue. After a second’s hesitation, he nodded.

“Good boy.” The manticore’s paw shoved Theo’s face back into its sheath, grinding the damp slit on the young man’s lips. “Again.”


End file.
